


Dear Pepper

by WinterTheWriter



Series: Building Happily Ever After [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon divergence (no Civil War), F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-MoT, light humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterTheWriter/pseuds/WinterTheWriter
Summary: It's been three years since you left.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, here we go. This fic CAN be read as a standalone BUT there are references to Matter of Time, as this takes place directly after it and in the same universe, so some bits might not make a lot of sense if you haven't read that. A good way to fix that is by reading Matter of Time. Seriously, read it. 
> 
> First of many sequel oneshots. Starting up again from now, there will be a new one every Monday. Message/comment here if you have any sequels you wanna read about/questions to answer and I'll try to add them! Hope you enjoy~.

Dear Pepper,

Fuck, life’s hard. I mean, shit. They always tell you it’s hard when you’re a kid, but you take it with a grain of salt because life /isn’t/ hard when you’re a kid — even if it’s a rotten childhood, it’s still straight-forward, still seems like everything’s the way it’s supposed to be. I’d punch kid-me in the face for not taking it seriously right now. With, like, brass knuckles. I should invent brass knuckles for Iron Man. I could use reinforced metal, make it stronger than the rest of the suit so it catches people by surprise. Bullet-proof, obviously, and maybe even missile proof if the surface area isn’t too small to [scribblescribble]

Anyways.

It’s been three years since you left. I know I write you a letter every year, so obviously if this is the third year you’ve gotten one, you know it’s been three years. Whatever. It’s not like I actually send these to you. It may hurt like a motherfucker that you’re gone (I may have cried — don’t tell Rhodey), but that doesn't mean I’m gonna go all creepy stalker on you. The least I can do after ruining your life and the best relationship of mine is leave you the fuck alone when you ask me to. 

Can you tell I’m nervous?

I don’t know. Shit’s cathartic. You were always such a great listener. Only one who was to me. You probably have no idea how many times you’ve accidentally saved my life (12) by just letting me talk to you. That’s probably part of what drove you away; no one wants to listen to a crazy, manipulative, not-actually-that-smart, immature, selfish, PTSD-ridden, [scribblescribble]

Sorry about that. I’m not doing so hot. Nothing to worry about, I promise. You know, the most annoying thing about this batshit life of mine is that I had to realize Howard was always right about me. That stings. I built my entire persona based on the idea of proving him wrong. I was going to change the world for the better. I was going to be smarter than him. I was going to be more successful than him. 

I was going to be so /good/, Pep. 

Funny how things change. 

And by funny, I mean I really want those brass knuckles to my face right about now. Would you take me back if I let you wear them for the punch? I would, you know. You could do pretty much anything you want to me. You have so much goddamn power over me, and you want nothing to do with it whatsoever. That stings too. 

Anyways, onto the interesting stuff. Not much has changed. We have a new Avenger. He’s a British alien from another universe, and he sorta looks like John Simm. Yeah, that actor we saw in that weird prison movie? Him. He’s cool. Smart as hell but sorta broody. And fucking awful taste in men, since he’s all hot for Rogers. They got together recently and although they don’t do much PDA, they still look at each other like they’re resisting the urge to bone right then and there and it sorta gives me indigestion. What’s even worse is when they look at each other like they’re posing for the first ever queer Nicholas Sparks book, X-Files edition. That goes right past indigestion and straight to making my ass leak.   
I guess it doesn’t help that I’m still sorta pining over you, but. I never claimed to not be a bitter person. Really, I’m happy for them. Alien dude (his name’s Koschei, by the way) was a mess when he first got here and Steve, well, he’s always been a mess. They clean each other up. It’s nice to see even with the indigestion and diarrhea. 

I miss you. That’s the main theme of this letter, and the two before it. I miss you like crazy and I’m a mess without you too. You went beyond cleaning me up. You kept me from getting messy again. You fixed me, at least for a while, and you made me feel stuff that isn’t supposed to exist in real life. I don’t know if I’ve ever done a damn thing for you so I don’t exactly blame you for leaving, but I tried to, okay? I tried to.

I’ve always tried to. 

The bed’s too big and too cold without you so I avoid it because when I don’t, I always end up on your side, like I’m subconsciously trying to warm the sheets so when I roll away I can pretend you just got up to shower or get coffee or something. And that’s just pathetic — I can admit that. So yeah.

I hope you’re happy. Genuinely, I hope you’re happy. I hope everything goes well for you, and you become the richest person in the world because you’re so smart and talented and good at what you do that you could probably be CEO of Earth itself if you really wanted. I’d lose that fight gladly. I’d give you my company gladly. If you want it, it’s yours. It’s all yours. Every penny, every suit, every invention I’ve ever made when I should’ve been paying attention to you instead. All of it is worthless without you. 

Okay, so, I’ve rambled enough for now. Got far mushier than I intended, but that tends to happen with you. I’ll write (but not send) you another message next year, so, you know, look forward to that. 

I think I’ll actually try to sleep. Your side of the bed is almost warm enough now. 

Stupidly, forever yours,

Tony Stark


End file.
